


Subtlety Is Not a Virtue

by Kiertorata



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coffee Shops, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 05:03:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiertorata/pseuds/Kiertorata
Summary: Percy finally confesses his feelings towards one of his oldest friends.





	Subtlety Is Not a Virtue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheMightyFlynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/gifts).



Percy Weasley was tolerably happy at the age of twenty-four. He loved his job and was well on his way towards another promotion. He had bought a nice flat, and all in all, things were quite well in his life. There was just one little problem: love. He had been obsessed with one Oliver Wood since Hogwarts. And despite the Quidditch and the bad jokes and the horrible sweaters, his feelings were not going away.

Seven years after they had left school, eight years since he’d realized he had feelings towards his friend, it was starting to get kind of ridiculous.

Percy had learned a lot during the war. He had learned that his family was still there for him, even after he'd been a proud, pompous twat and made some of the worst choices in his life. He had learned that dumping a woman you are not in love with is not easy, but it is considerably easier than staying with her forever.

The most valuable thing Percy had learned was to be a lot more honest with himself and with others. But that didn't change the fact that he was, well... Percy. And confessing his feelings to a long-term friend was a thing that people like him _just didn’t do_.

Which is why he found himself nervously fidgeting in his armchair at a café, re-reading the Quidditch section of today’s _Prophet_ for the third time. It was a cosy place, but Percy didn’t have the capacity to appreciate the atmospheric interior when he was waiting for Oliver – and his consequent doom – to arrive.

“Hey Perce,” Oliver said and sat in the armchair before him. Percy quickly shoved the _Prophet_ under a pile of magazines.

“H-hey,” he said. “You look nice.”

Dressed casually in jeans and a simple shirt, Oliver was a stark contrast to Percy, who wore formal attire even outside the office. His remark made Oliver look at him a little oddly, but almost immediately the man broke into an easy smile.

“Thanks,” he said.

“Let me go order for us,” Percy said, getting up. “What do you want?”

He took Oliver’s order and walked over to the counter, trying to ignore the beating of his heart.

_Calm down, Percy_ , he said to himself on the way back to the table, carrying a tray with their cups and Oliver’s piece of cake. It shook a little as he placed it on the table. _You can do this._

He was finally going to tell Oliver how he felt.

Percy watched a forkful of cake disappear in Oliver’s mouth in a mixture of desire and agony. Oliver had no idea how hot he was licking his fork. He had always been like this, able to enjoy the small things in life with simple, guiltless pleasure. It drove Percy mad.

“Mnnn, chocolate” Oliver said with a contented sigh. “The captain says it’s bad for my figure, but I just ignore him.”

Percy did not trust himself to comment, and took a sip of his coffee instead.

“How’d last night’s match go?” Percy asked, pretending he hadn’t just read about it in the papers.

“We lost,” Oliver said. “It was close, but Tornadoes had us overpowered. One of our Chasers was sick and our reserve hadn’t played much with the rest of the team.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it doesn’t matter. The Tornadoes are our biggest competition, so it didn’t really come as a surprise to anyone,” Oliver said. “It’s nice how you always pretend to be interested in Quidditch around me.”

Percy mumbled something incoherent in reply.

“So, how’s work?” Oliver asked.

They talked about Percy’s job and various other topics for a while. Percy tried to relax, but the task he had set himself loomed in his mind.

“How was the match yesterday?” Percy said.

“You already asked me that,” Oliver said.

“Right,” Percy said. “I—I did.”

“Percy. Is everything okay? You’re acting strange, even for you. Nervous, somehow.”

“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me some night this week,” Percy blurted. There, he’d said it, he’d asked Oliver out, he was going to be rejected…

“Sure,” Oliver said. “We’re going to the new Italian place near Leaky with some of my teammates tomorrow. Do you want to join us?”

“No! I mean…I was thinking more like you and me, just the two of us,” Percy said. “Somewhere nice.”

“I’m sure my mates wouldn’t mind you tagging along,” Oliver said, completely missing the point. “You can bring someone too, if you’d like.”

Percy placed his coffee cup on the table with rather more force than necessary. A bit of coffee splashed onto the table, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy being frustrated.

“I don’t want to spend time with your stupid teammates or bring someone.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you, you moron.”

Percy regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. The appalled look on Oliver’s face confirmed that what Percy had just said had not been something he wanted to hear. Percy was up and on the way out of the café before Oliver could say anything.

It was raining outside – _how suitable_ , he thought bitterly – and he quickly pulled on his cloak while making a swift getaway.

“Percy, wait!” Oliver shouted somewhere behind him.

Percy increased his pace until he was nearly running. Once he made it to the nearest empty alley, he Apparated with a loud _crack_.

 

“Percy! What a surprise to see you,” his mother said when he arrived at the Burrow. “I wasn’t expecting you until Saturday. I thought it was a busy time at work.”

“Hi Mum,” Percy said.

He had Apparated to the only place he could think of that wasn’t his flat.

He was immediately starting to regret it. He didn’t have anything here to distract himself with from his gnawing anxiety. Going back to his flat to fetch his briefcase was not an option, however, when Oliver might go to his flat to demand an explanation.

_Oliver_. What if he hated him now? The look on his face had been one of utter shock.

Suddenly Percy felt more miserable than he’d felt at the café, more miserable than he’d felt in weeks.

“Are you alright?” Molly said, brow furrowing in concern.

“Yes, fine,” Percy managed to croak.

“I’m looking after Rose tonight for Ron and Hermione,” Molly said. “If you want, you can go keep her company in the living room while I clear up the kitchen. She’s sleeping in her cradle.”

Rose was in her cradle, but she wasn’t asleep. When Percy sat on the sofa next to her, she greeted him with a toothless grin and threw a stuffed bunny at him. It missed him and landed on the floor. 

"Looks like you don't know what you're doing with your life either,” he retorted and picked up the toy. He didn’t know quite what to do with it, but after a moment’s hesitation handed it back to Rose. The girl grabbed it eagerly with her tiny baby fingers.

Sighing, he rested his elbow on the edge of the cradle and looked at his niece.

“Your uncle has been a royal idiot tonight, Rose,” Percy said. “I finally told Oliver how I feel and ended up making a complete fool of myself. Now he’s probably never going to talk to me again, and I’ve lost one of the best friends I have.”

Rose stared at him with wide eyes, appearing to listen intently.

“And to top it all off, I forgot my papers at home and can’t even work,” Percy sighed. “I’m never going to become Head of the Department. Hell, I will probably lose my job if I keep going on like this. Two dreams killed in one night.”

He knew he was being slightly dramatic, but he didn’t care. Rose gurgled in response.

"Love?" Percy said. "Believe me, it’s better if you steer clear of it if you can. Focus on your career, Rose. It’s much less complicated, and you’ll save yourself from a lot of heartbreak."

"What are you talking to Rose about?" Molly said from the kitchen.

“Nothing,” Percy replied.

The doorbell rang and Percy heard his mother scuttle to the door to open it. Then he heard a familiar voice address his mother.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley, is Percy here? I went to his flat but he wasn't home."

Percy’s stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch, but he tried to ignore it. It was time to take his rejection like a Gryffindor. He also felt the tiniest bit relieved. Surely Oliver would not have bothered to come to his parent’s home if he could no longer bare the sight of him? At least they could still be friends, even if it would be awkward for a while.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. Let me take a cup to Percy,” he heard Oliver say.

Oliver arrived in the living room holding two steaming cups and sat next to Percy on the sofa, passing one to him. He didn’t say anything. He seemed restless, and kept putting his cup down and picking it up again.

Percy held onto his mug like his life depended on it. Well, his sanity did, at least. He had never been so nervous in his life, and having something to do was the only thing holding him together.

"You're an idiot, you know," Oliver said finally, when the silence had gone on long enough.

“I know,” Percy said.

"If you hadn't left, you would have heard what I had to say back.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just ignore what I said,” Percy begged. “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. That’s much more important to me than—”

“I thought about the dinner thing," Oliver interrupted. “I realize now that you were trying to ask me out and that it was pretty inconsiderate of me to suggest my teammates tag along – although to be fair, you could have made your intentions clearer.”

“I was trying to be subtle,” Percy said. In hindsight, it had been a bad idea. Oliver didn’t do subtle.

“I don’t do subtle, Percy,” Oliver said.

“I know. I was…scared,” Percy said. “And I didn’t mean what I said about your teammates.”

“I know,” Oliver said, smiling wryly.

“Honestly, I had never thought of going out with you before,” Oliver said. “But that isn’t because I don’t want to. In fact, I’d love to, Percy. I just never thought you want me that way. So…dinner on Saturday?”

Percy suddenly became aware of the muscular leg pressing against his, and the hand that had come to rest upon his. Heart fluttering, Percy laced their fingers together.

“I’d like that,” Percy said. “No – I’d love that.”

 

“Well, good night then,” Oliver said at the threshold, and looked at him, smiling. It was different from how he usually looked at Percy. More fervent.

He leaned closer and suddenly Percy found himself pulled into a hungry kiss. Percy responded by wrapping his arms around Oliver’s neck and opening his mouth to allow Oliver’s tongue to roam freely.

It was minutes before they pulled apart.

“Oh god,” Percy said, breathless.

“Nope, just Oliver,” Oliver joked. “See you on Saturday, Perce.”

Percy stood in the doorway in a daze long after Oliver was gone before he went back in.

 

“Good night, Mum! I’m going home,” Percy said as he stepped into the Floo. “And by the way, there was a change of plans. I won't be here for dinner on Saturday.”


End file.
